Sore Loser
by ficwriterjet
Summary: A little drabble set near the end of Season 5. I wrote it to fill a prompt over on LJ for Spike spanking Angel. See the full prompt inside. WARNING: Consensual M/M spanking, no slash.


Author's Note: This little drabble takes place somewhere during the second half of Season 5 of Angel. This was written for a prompt over on the Live Journal community spanking_world. The prompt from verucasalt123 was: _I'd love to see Spike hauling Angel out of a party, a gathering or a meeting and spanking him for some infraction, doesn't even have to be too harsh, and then seeing Angel have to go back and know everybody heard it._

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and I'm not making any money from this story.

Warning: Consensual M/M spanking, no slash.

SORE LOSER

"Shut up, Spike!" The instant the words left his mouth, Angel realized his mistake. His eyes darted to the right where Spike was sitting. The younger vampire's smirk made Angel's stomach sink. He opened his mouth to continue telling his team about the new case they had, but Spike stood up, freezing Angel's words in his throat.

With an evil smile, and a predatory glint in his eye, Spike walked around the conference table towards Angel. His eyes never left Angel's as he spoke to the rest of the team. "Be right back. Angel and I need a word."

The older vampire cringed, and his shoulder's slumped at that pronouncement. Spike clapped a hand on Angel's upper arm, hauled him out of his chair, and ushered him out the open door, and into the adjacent office.

Wesley looked across the table at Lorne, and Gunn, and asked, "What was that about?"

Lorne shrugged, while Gunn said, "Beats me."

Illyria, who was sitting a few chairs away from the rest of them said, "Does this mean we can leave?"

"No." Wesley said tiredly, and leaned back in his chair to wait.

Once Spike and Angel were alone in the office with the door shut, Spike let him go, and gleefully said, "Over the desk."

"What? We're at work!" Angel hissed.

"A bet's a bet. What was it you said?" Spike cocked his head to the side, pretending to think it over. "That's right, once you were done laughing your arse off, you scoffed and said spanking was fine with you, because you weren't going to lose." Spike grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet a couple of times. "And you just lost. Over the desk."

Angel crossed his arms, and whispered, "I was drunk!"

Spike shook his head, "Not my fault you can't hold your liquor. You're just a sore loser." Spike grinned, "See, that's funny, because you're about to be a _very_ sore loser." Spike patted the desk.

Angel rolled his eyes, clenched his jaw, and stalked over to the desk. He muttered, "I'm never drinking with you again." He bent slightly at the waist, put the palms of his hands on the desk, and kept his face forward.

Spike put one hand on the older vampire's back, and leaned in to whisper in Angel's ear, "It's only Monday."

Angel's shoulder's hunched. "I know very well what day it is, Spike. Just get on with it, we need to get back to work."

"You couldn't even go one day without telling me to shut up, and you said you could go a whole week."

Angel sighed. If he'd been sober last night, he never would have agreed to this idiotic bet. He had his suspicions that his sneaky little grandchilde had been dumping his share of the whisky into the potted plant instead of drinking it. It was going to be a long week.

"Monday means you get twenty five," Spike said with delight. He raised his free hand high in the air, and started smacking the seat of Angel's slacks as hard as he could. Their roles had been reversed more times than Spike cared to remember, so being able to do this without repercussion was deeply satisfying.

Angel held himself completely still, and thanked God that he didn't need to breathe, because he doubted he could keep silent if he had to exhale.

Back in the conference room, the muffled sound of hitting could be heard through the wall. Gunn, Wesley, and Lorne all exchanged glances, while Illyria stared off into space ignoring it. Gunn shifted in his chair, and said, "Is that… Are they… That can't be what it sounds like can it?"

Wesley shook his head. "No. I'm sure it's not."

Lorne tilted his head to the side. "I wouldn't be so sure."

Illyria said absently, "Angel is over a desk, and Spike is hitting him repeatedly. Does that mean the meeting is over?"

Gunn and Wesley had trouble covering their shock. Lorne said, "No, that just means the meeting got more interesting."

By the time Spike laid down the twenty-fifth smack, he could feel Angel's body flinching with each blow. The older man hadn't made any other indication that that he'd even felt the spanking. Spike took his hands off Angel and took a step back.

Angel stayed in place a few seconds, to get a handle on the pain. When he was ready, he stood up, straightened his jacket, and said, "Ready to get back to work?"

Spike scowled. "You take the fun out of everything."

Angel huffed, and went back to the conference room. When he saw the awkward glances from Gunn, and Wesley, and the curious expression on Lorne's face, he couldn't stop the blush from spreading across his face. He'd have to skip his morning blood for the rest of the week.

Spike's happy mood returned when he saw the embarrassment on his grandsire's face. "That's more like it," he muttered to himself.

"Where were we?" Angel said, and then it came to him, "Oh right, the missing scroll…"

A slow grin spread across Spike's face, when he noticed that Angel was pacing around the table to discuss the next case, instead of sitting at the table with the rest of them. It was going to be a good week.

The End


End file.
